


Pardon My Pleasure

by QueerIsHere



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bad Jokes, Bottom Peter Parker/Top Wade Wilson, Cute Peter Parker, Cute Wade Wilson, Hurt Peter, Hurt Wade Wilson, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I have the vocabulary of a 9 year old so please have mercy, I'm Going to Hell, Kinda self-harm but indirect, M/M, No Boxes AU, Oral Sex, Peter Parker Loves Wade Wilson, Peter cries and gets injured far too often, Peter is 24 you heathens, Peter sucks his own dick, Rough Sex, Self-Hatred, Sex Toys, Swearing, Wade Wilson Loves Peter Parker, Wade is in his late 30s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-15 21:08:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15421629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueerIsHere/pseuds/QueerIsHere
Summary: Peter runs the small adult toys shop in Manhattan. Deadpool drops by and the wheels of fate start turning.ORThe one where Peter gets hurt a lot as Spider-Man, is horny, and comes into terms with his feelings for the one and only Wade Winston Wilson.





	Pardon My Pleasure

**Author's Note:**

> This is a monster. I'm not going to lie. It's 26 pages long, 10,056 words (about 3,000 of which is gratuitous smut). This fic holds my blood, sweat, and tears between its lines. 
> 
> It was also a lot of fun to write so I hope you guys enjoy! 
> 
> Also I think I've only ever read one fanfic where Peter sucks his own dick, which is a fucking crime, so here's to me for adding one more.

There were a lot of things Peter was passionate about he guessed. He loved science. A lot. Enough to get a full ride at NYU for all four years and earn a degree, Summa Cum Laude mind you, for double majoring in electrical engineering and chemistry (how he ended up graduating in 4 years was a mystery to him. How he survived with the amount of sleep he got per night was one as well). He loved Aunt May and his friends, would do anything and everything for them seeing as they’d been his biggest support system all his life. He also loved being Spider-Man whenever he could. Swinging throughout the city served as a surefire to clear his head and wipe away his anxiety. 

 

Then there was his day job. The one where he took everything he learned from college and applied it vivaciously to his work. The one where he bought a small shop in Manhattan to feed his obsession with building things.

 

Such things like, say, bullet vibrators, magic wands, dildos, his own mixture of long-lasting and stainless lubricant to name a few. Shocked? So was Aunt May.

 

“I didn’t know you were  _ interested  _ in sex, much less wanted to make stuff like this!” May gasped in shock when he first revealed his plans to open an adult toys shop. “Well, that’s a lie. I suspected that you and Gwen were doing  _ things  _ back in the day but to think that it all lead up to this…” Quickly she caught her insensitivity and apologized profusely to her nephew who flinched back like the name still burned alive. 

 

“It’s fine Aunt May, no need to apologize. I understand that this may come off as a big shock to you and all but… I don’t know… making these things makes me really happy. I don’t know how else to put it besides, like, finding something that combines everything that I love and being able to do it every day while making people happy.”

 

“That’s what you said when I found out about Spider-Man,” she crossed her arms in mock sass, but he could see her caving.

  
  


“Yeah… sorry about that again,” Peter winced, recalling the exact moment May’s eyes flashed in something akin to betrayal when he took off his mask.

 

“No, no. I should be the one apologizing. Here you come confiding in me about something you’re truly passionate about and I haven’t been supportive at all.”

  
  


“You’re just trying to understand. I get that, don’t worry,” he tried reassuring her.

“Well… I mean, whatever it’s whatever you want Peter just make sure you’re safe as always. Also, do you think,” Her voice went quiet, morphing into a sort of scandalous whisper. “Do you think I could take a look later?”

 

Yeah. So while being his Aunt’s main supply in toys was something he tried not to dwell on too much (if anything he was just happy that she was taking care of herself, especially after Uncle Ben and all), he found himself immensely satisfied with being able to make things that people genuinely wanted. If his professors could see him now, checking his website’s store page to find his latest squirting dildo sold out, he imagined they would be proud. Somewhere buried deep inside the shame and aversion to one of society’s most taboo topics. 

 

He was happy nonetheless. He still stayed up late some nights, drawing schematics and utilizing every brain cell available to come up with a product that’s more amazing than the last. So here he was, Peter Benjamin Parker at the ripe age of 24, restocking the condoms section of the cute little shop he’d been running alone for a little under 2 years. 

 

He found himself chuckling inwardly when he saw almost the entire shelf of magnums was empty.  _ ‘Someone’s been thinking a little highly of themselves.’  _ Shaking his head, he forged on, checking the time quickly to see he still had about half an hour until close. 

 

“Okay, lingerie- check. Anal beads- check. Cock rings- check. Cock rings with vibrators- check…” He listed off one by one, marking each item off of his tablet. That’s when the he heard the doorbell ding open as someone entered. 

 

He peeked over the shelves and saw a strangely familiar figure in all red roaming the aisles. Quickly, he made his way over to the register, shaking the mouse to the computer a bit to wake it back up. He opened up the security camera feed, eyes widening when he saw who it was that had entered his quaint establishment. 

 

Inconspicuously, he checked to see if his web shooters were full and mulled over possible outcomes, discarding each one because  _ come on  _ this is Deadpool he was talking about. That night would either end in his shop getting damaged in some way or one of them (most likely Deadpool) getting hurt. As he quietly debated in his head he barely noticed the gloved hand waving in front of his face. Peter blinked up at the culprit, coming eye-to-eye with the trademark whites of the anti-hero's mask. 

 

“I know you’re about to close shop and I hate to be that asshole that comes in to buy a shit ton of stuff at the last minute but if you could spare enough late-night dick-jerking energy to check me out that would be absolutely lovely,” He said sweetly, pushing his basket of items forward.

 

Right away Peter felt the innate need to kick the man out before something went wrong but his mouth moves before his mind can process what comes out, “If anything you’re the one that’s gonna need to keep up the energy if your purchases are anything to go by. That ‘Firecracker’ lube is no joke,” The tension between them became immensely amplified as Peter scolded himself for literally having the filter equivalent of an open window. 

 

He made a move to apologize and was taken more than a little bit aback when Deadpool throws his head back, guffawing large and loud. He then leans slightly toward Peter (who can either feel the man’s eyes drilling into his face to his soul or he’s just sleep deprived) and boops his nose, “If anyone’s the firecracker here, it’s you, Peter Peter Pumpkin Eater. Your concern is touching. By any chance would you care to do a live demonstration of your products? I want to know what exactly I’m buying.”

 

A snort gave way before Peter could stop it along with a smile that lit up his eyes. Fuck, what was happening, “Sorry, you  _ just  _ missed the times I usually do demonstrations actually. Tough luck. You might actually have to use that brain of yours and  _ read the instructions _ .”

 

“Is that any way to treat a customer? Tell them to  _ read? _ You’re coming off more as an Ice Queen than I would have thought you were capable of.”

 

Peter simply gave a shrug and a small crooked smile before he began to check the items out. Some pretty standard- as standard as they could get, okay?- There was the lube, a box of magnum condoms (snort) which was all fun and games but then he picked up a silk lingerie set and felt his heart drop in almost disappointment.

 

“You’re partner or partners must be very lucky, Mr. Pool. This stuff is as great as great can get,” Peter added as he rang everything up. Shit, he hadn’t even noticed the sneaky “are you single?” question he’d hidden from himself. Darn you inner Parker.

 

“If by partners you mean the dynamic duo that is my left hand and Mr. Sparkles, the unicorn plushie that keeps my bed warm at night then, yes, they are definitely very lucky. But not as lucky as this guy,” he pointed to himself. “Who’s possibly met the reincarnation of Our Lord and Savior Bea Arthur.”

 

Peter didn’t know who that was but felt flattered all the same. He flicked his wrists down to disable his web shooters and bagged all of Deadpool’s items, “Well, I don’t know about that. Okay, sir, your total comes out-pun not intended- to be $54. 54 which is… such a nice way to end the day.” Peter sighed dreamily at the register before blinking back out of his daze to see Deadpool deadass staring at him again with the same intensity as last time. For a moment Peter could swear that there was steam coming from his own ears with how hard he was blushing. He held his hand out for payment and instead of receiving something reasonable like maybe $55, the guy just hands him a wad of cash.

 

“Uh, Deadpool, sir… this is way too much money. I legally cannot take this,” Peter explained wide-eyed.

 

“Consider it a tip for your troubles. You’re past closing because of me, remember?” 

 

Peter glanced at the clock and pursed his lips. He was right, “Here, instead of you doing that, let me just take what I need and I’ll give you back your change.”

 

“Baby, boy, I insist. A couple thousand bucks are nothing compared to what you should be getting. You’re doing the Lord’s work here, Petey.”

 

Peter chuckled, covering his smile with a hand out of reflex, barely noticing the way the man’s shoulders hunched forward as if entranced. “No thanks. All I require is the very beautiful $54.54 you owe me and then we can both be on our way.” Deadpool just sighed and did as he was told (remarkably, he didn’t even think Deadpool had the ability to listen). “Alright, sir you’re all set! Have an amazing night and stay safe!”

 

The man salutes him once before exiting and for once Peter feels like he can breathe. 

 

“That was… unexpected.”

 

\---

 

When he got back home, Peter debated on whether or not he should get a full night's rest instead of heading out as Spider-Man. Then laughed at himself for even considering being healthy for once. So with that, he changed and climbed out of his apartment window before heading onto the roof. For a moment he closed his eyes and concentrated on tuning everything out. The distant car horns, the sound of his own breath, until finally, he heard yelling. A woman calling for help. 

 

With that, Peter kissed his web shooters for good luck and set off to save another life.

 

\---

 

Walking into work the morning after with a little over 3 hours of sleep, a bruised jaw, and no coffee in sight was by far the most difficult thing Peter’s ever had to do. And he’s stopped a moving train before. Thankfully, he had stored a first aid kit in the back and had bought more coffee grounds the other day. Kudos to forward-thinking, Parker.

 

Before he opened shop, he held an ice pack to his aching cheek for half an hour and when he checked himself with his phone, he noticed the bruise had gone from a terrible blue to off greenish yellow color. So, better. 

 

He was fine with bearing with all the odd looks from his customers (as if those would phase him by now) and the dull throbbing in his head after having fought his heart out making sure a mother and her child were safe from the no-nonsense streets of Queens. In the end, it was all worth it. It always was.

 

After finally getting a cup of coffee in him the rest of the day wasn’t so bad. He got asked about his face about 26 times by 6 o’clock and by then he’d decided to have a little fun with it. Telling one couple that he’d gotten clocked by a grizzly bear in Manhattan while telling another that Spider-Man had accidentally kicked him while swinging away. Some laughed. Some didn’t. Either way, someone walked out of his shop with a dildo. Or 7 boxes of magnums but who was counting.

 

It was at around 2 days later, 10 minutes before closing that Peter saw Deadpool again. The bruise from before had healed up nicely but was quickly replaced by a pretty rad black eye and a split lip. A flawless face in the world of crime was as elusive as life on Mars. It just didn’t happen. Well, unless you’re any one of the Avengers. Curse you Steve with your perfect hair and dumb beautiful face. 

 

Fingers snapped in front of his line of vision, jolting him back from his gaydream about Captain America (probably for the best. It was no good getting an erection in an adult toys store contrary to belief). There he saw Deadpool, carrying the 8th box of condoms that was about to be bought along with a string of dark red anal beads. Something in Peter told him that the man wanted them to match his suit. He wasn’t surprised.

 

“Oh, hello again, Mr. Sure-I’ll-Show-Up-Ten-Minutes-Before-Close,” He sassed good-naturedly and began ringing the items up.

 

“Baby boy, you do remember me!” The merc squealed causing Peter’s over-sensitive ears to ring. “I thought after all the weirdos that walk into this cute little shop you’d forget about  _ this  _ weirdo!”

 

Rolling his eyes, Peter typed in the total in the register, “That’ll be $30 even. And why do I feel like that’s not even an option.” 

 

He could see Deadpool grin under his mask as he was handed the money, ”Because it’s not, cream puff. Wait-” Deadpool gasped and pointed at Peter’s face, “Holy kittens in a vat of acid, Batman! What’s that?!”

 

“... It’s a black eye?”

 

“Yes, yes I know but  _ why  _ is there a shiner on your angelic visage, Petey Pie?”

 

Peter thought of an excuse for a moment and just decided to tell the truth, “I got punched in the face by a mugger.” Half-truth, excuse him. 

 

Deadpool looked contemplative and Peter swore he could feel his eyes trace over every inch of his face. He perked up suddenly, “I have just the thing for that! Here!” He pulled out a pink eye-patch with a Hello Kitty skull and crossbones. Hardcore. 

 

“...Not that I don’t appreciate the gesture but I’m not missing an eye, nor am I a pirate,” Peter clarified but took the eye-patch all the same.

 

“Trust me Petey Pie, you’ll want to give that lovely doe eye some rest. Also, ice it lots.”

 

Wow, did Deadpool… The Merc With the Mouth… one of the most dangerous assassins on the planet…actually care? He’d researched him before but had only dug up mainly one-sided accounts informing their readers about the man’s crimes against society and how he posed a threat to humankind yaddah yaddah yaddah. He didn’t know for sure. Right now Deadpool was guilty until proven otherwise but something in Peter told him there was nothing to be afraid of.

 

He didn’t know if he was just sappy or gullible. Probably both mixed with a lot of stupid.

 

“Thanks,” He muttered and bagged the items. “Receipt in or out of the bag?”

 

“Inside, please! Not the first time I’ve said that!” Deadpool chuckles to himself and Peter swears he can see the wink thrown his way. He coughs into his arm to hide his blush.

 

“H-Have a nice night, sir!” Peter nods to him, voice audibly going up an octave. The man seems quite satisfied with himself if his body language was anything to go by. Jesus, Parker had it really been that long since someone displayed any sort of interest in you?

 

Deadpool blows him a kiss and walks off with his prize. Letting out a shaky breath, Peter closes up shop and walks home.

 

\---

 

The merc comes in a grand total of 9 times over the next two weeks, and honestly, Peter finds himself looking forward to his visits. Each time Deadpool lets slip a personal fact. Now Peter knows that Deadpool loves chimichangas, is kind of into KPOP, and loves all the colors of the rainbow, save for white and yellow. 

 

“Why? I dunno they just seem awful. Like, who’d want to wear the same colors as an egg when there are others like helio or vermillion,” He answered Peter when asked and laughed at his confused expression. Later, Peter looked the colors up and found that they made cute accents to his new line of vibrators. 

 

About a month in their unlikely friendship, he told Peter his name. They’d been sitting on the sidewalk outside, eating burritos under the starless sky like they usually did. Well, it was more like Deadpool was watching Peter eat but whatever. The antihero took to buying Peter food now, saying it was to make up for having to interact with him. Peter shut that down quick but accepted the food. Hey, a guy could eat. He was mid-bite when suddenly, “Wade.”

 

Peter turned to the man, wide-eyed, mouth frozen open, “Huh?”

 

“You don’t have to refer to me as “the merc” or “the anti-hero” anymore, plus it’d do the author a lot of favors to just say my name instead.”

 

Peter put down his burrito on the wrapping and said once more as eloquently as always, “Huh??”

 

Wade sighed and ruffled the brunet’s hair, “Nothing, baby boy. It’s nothing. But my name’s Wade. Wilson. Well, Wade Winston Wilson if you’re looking for something that rolls off your tongue a little bit better.”

 

“As opposed to just saying your first name?” Peter snickered, playing with the drawstrings on his hoodie. 

 

“Hey now. No need for that sass.”

 

“Sorry… Wade,” Peter picked his burrito back up and took a big mouthful (bigger than what was probably necessary, crossing the line between “oh, he’s just hungry” and “oh… he can definitely deepthroat”)  as he peered up at the leather-clad individual through thick, dark eyelashes. He heard an almost cartoonish gulping noise come from the man and felt goosebumps raise off his arms. Yeah, he’s still got it. Why was he thinking like he’s in his 50s again?

 

Wade Winston Wilson cleared his throat and rolled his mask up to his nose for the first time  _ ever _ and picked up an unwrapped burrito. He took a bite, keeping his head downturned as if to hide as much skin as he possibly could from Peter. 

 

Like a preschooler, Peter stared far too long and intensely.  _ ‘This is it. This is Wade’  _ Was probably the only thought in his brain next to a noise that could only closely be described as the sound a television makes when the screen goes fuzzy. Realizing that he was being impolite, Peter nudged at Wade’s arm with a playful gleam in his eye, “So that’s the mouth I’ve been hearing so much about and from. Funny how that this is the first time I’m seeing it with how often it’s used.”

 

“You saying I talk too much, Pete?” Wade questioned with a hint of relief in his voice. 

 

“You said it, not me,” He closed his eyes and laughed. When he opened them he saw a hand hurtling towards him, and without even thinking his Spidey Senses took the reigns and jerked him as back as far as he could to avoid it. His heartbeat rang in his ears like twin snare drums and felt his stomach drop at Wade’s frown. Taking a few deep breaths, he grimaced when he felt the scratches on his ribs pull at his skin.

 

Quietly, he inched back to his spot by Wade and clasped his hands together tightly, unable to look back up at him. “I’m sorry,” Peter closed his eyes tightly.  _ ‘I fucked it up. Why do I always fucking do this? Stupid spider powers’ _

 

He felt a warm gloved hand gently being placed over his, “Dummy… I’m the one that’s supposed to be apologizing. I was only going to flick you, I didn’t mean to freak you out. It won’t happen again.” Peter didn’t know if it was the conviction in Wade’s voice or the fact that he was emotionally overwhelmed at that moment but he suddenly felt like crying. “I’d say it’s about that time you tell me who’s really been hurting you, wouldn’t you say Peter?”

 

_ ‘What?’  _ “I’m sorry, what?” 

 

“You know… don’t think I haven’t noticed you hurting, baby boy. I see the bruises.”

 

“Oh, Wade, that’s not-” Peter stopped himself. He couldn’t just tell him that someone wasn’t hurting him because A.) that was untrue and B.) how could he possibly explain getting injured so often. “I don’t know who they are. Sometimes I’ll be walking home and I’ll get jumped by guys. But, I mean it’s fine. That’s what I get for walking in the dark I guess. Plus it’s not all bad. I’ve gotten better at defending myself!” He tried sounding positive but Wade didn’t seem to look so chipper.

 

“I’m walking you home from now on,” He said and retracted his hand in favor of eating his burrito.

 

Peter blinked, “Wha- Wade I can’t ask you to do that.” 

 

“You didn’t ask and I’m doing it. I’m not letting you get hurt anymore, baby boy. That’s a guarantee if my name isn’t Wade “Butt-Kicking” Wilson.”

 

“You’re middle name’s Winston, Wade. You literally told me 5 minutes ago.”

 

“That’s what Winston stands for. My own special definition,” He smiled and Peter tried very hard not to be enamored by how wonderful it was. “So? What do you say?”

 

Finishing his burrito, Peter picked up his bag and stood as he began walking away. He looked over his shoulder and saw Wade staring after him so he threw a grin over his shoulder and told him, “You coming or what?”

 

Wade jumped up ran up beside him, not before throwing everything out, of course, littering was a very serious matter to the mercenary. “No offense, Petey, but I could write  _ monologues  _ about your derriere.”

 

“I take much offense by that, Wade… but thanks. I work out a lot.”

 

“ _ It shows. _ ”

 

\---

 

Things were going… great. Really really great. Peter didn’t know how it was possible to fall for someone who’s full face you haven’t even seen yet but here he was, wistfully waiting for Wade to come by at his usual time. It had been about 2 months since Wade began walking him home and honestly that’s how long it took for Peter to get his head out of his ass and start listening to his heart. So, tonight, Peter decided to confess his feelings to Wade and at the moment he felt every part the blushing school girl. He looked at the clock once more, getting antsy and blinked in shock when he noticed that he was 3 minutes past closing. Quickly he gathered his things and closed up shop, shooting a text to Wade asking where he was. 

 

Almost immediately he received a text telling him only that he was “out of town” and would be for “a few weeks” alongside a bunch of kissy faces and heart emojis. He had to physically stop himself from turning his “Stay safe” into an “I’ll miss you”. Whelp, there goes his plans for the night. As always Universe, your timing could not be any more impeccable. That was the cue, apparently, for it to start raining. Thanks.

 

Peter hailed down a cab and had it drive him down the few blocks it took to get home.

  
  


\---

 

He arrived at his apartment cold, wet, and starving. Apparently, ‘After close’ translated to ‘Feed Peter hour’ in his stomach. Glad to know Wade had conditioned him like one of Pavlov’s dogs. As if Wade’s missing presence wasn’t hard on him enough. He sniffled his way to his bedroom where he changed out of his clothes and headed straight for the shower, turning the water as hot as he could take and just stood there.

 

20 minutes later, Peter stepped out of the bathroom, skin flushed and eyes swollen. The steam followed him out like a lost lover and with one quick breeze from his window it was gone. He sat on his bed and put his face in his hands and just breathed. Rubbing his eyes he peeked at his open closet through his fingers and sighed at the sight of his suit. He really should be patrolling but he just wasn’t up for it tonight. Then his eyes bounced to one of the lower shelves where he kept a certain shoebox. 

 

The contents of which that had gotten him through Gwen’s death, the stress of midterms and finals, and being an enhanced individual with spider-like abilities. He really shouldn't… but who was there to stop him?  _ ‘Definitely not Wade’  _ he snorted to himself and reached out to open the drawer, pulling out a bright orange Nike box. “With great power comes great responsibility, right Uncle Ben?” He lifted the lid, revealing an array of his favorite toys. “What about with great power comes great  _ irresponsibility. _ ” He paused a moment and said a quick prayer, apologizing for being an idiot. Then he dug in.

 

\---

 

_ ‘Alright, Parker. What’s on the menu tonight?’  _ He asked himself as he scrolled through his folder of bookmarked porn on his laptop. “No… no.. no.. ew, seriously? Delete that… This one? Maybe.. No.. oh, here we go,” Peter chuckled at the title:  The Penetrator (I’ll Come Again). Perfect. Now, lube. He reached into the box and pulled out a bottle of his favorite water-based lubes along.

 

As for toys, he decided to go for one of his more sizable dildos since he was feeling a little daring that night. Soon enough his porn was started and wrapped a hand around his dick, slowly bringing it to life.

 

“Nnh! Oh, fuck me, Penetrator! Fuck me harder!” The blonde, big-breasted woman cried out as a man with hella defined abs, who was dressed as the Terminator, rammed into her from behind.

 

“Hasta la vista, baby,” The Penetrator grunted and grabbed her hair, pistoning his hips harder than before.

 

Okay, maybe this wasn’t the best x-rated film to jerk off to. Why did he have it in his bookmarks- Oh. Now he got it. He felt his cock twitch at the grunts the male star was making and twisted it at the head, making his whole body shudder. Thhheeeere we go. He squirted more lube onto his hand before lightly tracing his fingers up and down, paying special attention to his balls for a moment.

 

“Mmmph,” He breathed harshly and continued to lazily jerk himself off with his right hand as placed a finger at his hole with the left. He put the slightest bit of pressure on the place just underneath the head and felt his entire body course with lightning. “Okay, deep breaths now,” Peter told himself and slowly began to push his middle finger into himself.

 

It’d been a while since he’d had anything in there so prep time was going to be longer. Taking a moment to get used to the intrusion, Peter lifted his legs so he was very nearly folded in half, his dick hanging about an inch or so from his mouth.  _ ‘Marilyn Manson whom?’  _ vaguely crossed his mind as pushed down onto his ass and brought his cock closer to lick at it. The porn lay playing, forgotten in the corner of his bed as Peter took a few more deep breaths through his nose (his mouth currently wrapped around his own dick) and added a second finger, massaging his inner walls before-

 

His eyes flew open and then fluttered shut, a groan bubbling up from his chest, creating delicious vibrations around his dick as he tongued at his slit. He then began to tease himself, moving his fingers everywhere, but his prostate, just brushing it before moving to a different area. After about ten more minutes of making sure he was thoroughly stretched, he fit the third in. It burned just the slightest as it slid in, adding more to his already overwhelmed senses. Soon enough, too much blood was going to his head and he could barely breathe around his deepthroated dick so he carefully brought his legs back down onto the bed and grabbed the silicone dildo. A whopping 8 and a half inches of thick, deliciousness. Mmmm… Peter poured a generous amount of lube onto it and turned the volume on his laptop up just the slightest. He took a second to admire the bodies of the porn stars on display, nearly drooling at the guy’s bulging biceps when Wade’s own came to mind.

 

“Ohh,” Peter moaned low in his throat as he raised a hand and began pinching and playing with his nipples. “Fuck, Wade…” He spread his legs out more and began to press the dildo inside ever so slightly. He closed his eyes once more and imagined Wade’s breath at his neck, hot and controlled, but slowly becoming more uneven as Peter accepted him. “Wade, yes yes, please, baby.” Wade would grip harshly at his thighs, maybe to ground himself or just to leave marks, and- “Yessssss…” Peter hissed as he felt himself become completely filled. The dick was cool inside him but was quickly warming up as he tightened around it. 

 

Frantically, his other hand searched for his dick and gripped it tightly as he began to move. He could feel himself clenching and unclenching so tightly around the foreign object, and wondered how many times it would take for Wade to fuck him until he became loose enough to take him whenever he wanted. The deep groans and the slapping of skin from his monitor blended into his fantasies. He imagined kissing Wade so deeply, he would swallow the man’s own noises and vice versa. He could practically feel the dick inside him twitch with its oncoming release as he continued to ram it inside himself, feeling it slam into his sweet spot again and again and again as he jerked Peter off faster and faster and-

 

“Oh, God, Wade!” Peter turned and wailed into his pillow as he felt every nerve in his body come alive. He stroked himself to release, feeling his cum spurt from his angry red cock and splatter all the way up his chest to his neck. He squeezed himself once more and winced as he pulled his hand away, over-sensitive and hazy with release. Peter reached between his legs and pulled the dildo out as slowly as he could, hissing as the fake veins grazed against his swollen asshole. Finally, when it was out, he flopped back, putting an arm over his eyes and laid in pure, post-orgasmic bliss, barely registering the opening line of the porn as it started up again.

 

“Cum with me if you want to live.”

 

Yeah, that was definitely a keeper.

 

\---

 

After that eventful night, Peter found himself masturbating almost every day for two weeks, shucking off his pants as soon as he got home at night and jerking off before climbing out the window as Spider-Man. God, he couldn’t remember the last time he pleasured himself so often… maybe after Gwen? Yeah, after getting off his antidepressants his libido shot through the roof and it felt like he had a constant erection for weeks. That’s when he really got into the toys business, he guessed. 

 

Either way, it became almost ritualistic. Wake up, think about Wade, go to work, think about Wade, go home, jerk off to wade, patrol, sleep for a few hours, and repeat. He was less careful in fights, in hopes that the masked man would appear and care for him. If there was anything Peter liked in life, it was routine. If there was anything he missed, it was the extraordinariness of it. He still got a bit of that when he was out webbing up criminals but it wasn’t the same without Wade. When he walked into the shop smiling so wide you could practically see his teeth sparkle through thick leather. When he would do everything to make Peter laugh as he was trying to take inventory, or when he’d brush his shoulder ever so slightly against Peter’s as he escorted him home. 

 

Everything just seemed so much better since the merc came into his life and now that he was gone, Peter was practically suffocating in the mediocrity of it all.  Because of this, he decided to up the ante a bit with his newer line of toys. He added, textures, scents, more stimulating (but safe) lubricants, dildos that rotated at different levels, you name it, he’s made it. He even added a special orders section onto his website where people could  _ create  _ their own toys. 

 

Like Charles Dickens once wrote, “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.”

 

Business was doing so well online compared to the store that he seriously considered going fully digital, before dismissing himself. He could easily create a successful company, one that would expand Peter’s customer base worldwide. But he stressed out too easily, and he quite liked the idea of being, “New York’s G-Spot”. Sorry, Tony Stark. Looks like you have some competition on the subject of managing the most controversial business of all time.

 

So with everything happening, it was a bit of a surprise to hear Wade’s voice while Peter was carefully bending over to grab at a fallen object, leaning heavily on a crutch as he tried not to put any weight on his sprained ankle. “If there is a god out there, they will not let you move from that position until the end of time,” He heard him drool from behind.

 

Swerving around, felt something in him shout “He’s here! He’s here! He’s here! I love you I love you!” repeatedly at the sight of the mercenary and all his muscular glory. “Hey, Wade,” He sighed, probably looking as love-sick as he felt.

 

Wade stood rigid in place and slowly approached Peter, hand reaching out slowly and caressing his face, “Petey… What- what the  _ fuck. _ ”

 

Peter snapped his head up in confusion and remembered the black eye and bruised cheek he’d gotten the night before. “O-Oh, you see- uh… I saw that someone was in trouble and the bad guys, I guess you could call them that, attacked me instead and u-uh they had bats and well... yeah,” Peter gestured to his face flippantly. “I mean it hurts and everything b-but s’not so bad cause the victim got away safe. Plus I’m a fast healer so they’ll be gone before you know it.”

 

He could feel the hand on his face tremble, “When did you say this happened?” Wade asked, barely a whisper.

 

“T-Two days ago? I think? I had to go to the hospital for a bit because of my leg but it was just a sprain. Third degree, it hurts like a bitch but I’ll be fine-”

 

“Stop,” Wade snapped and Peter clamped his mouth shut. “Stop saying that you’re fine, Peter. I don’t know what backward, shit show, fucked up kind of a world you’ve been living in where you think this shit is okay.”

 

He’d never heard Wade so angry before, “Jesus Christ, why didn’t you  _ text  _ me? I would’ve dropped  _ everything  _ and come to help you. Also, you’re an idiot for trying to play hero! I mean look at you! Goddamnit, Peter! I don’t understand why-”

 

“Why what, Wade? The person was in trouble, I saved them. End of story. You have no right to come here and  _ shame me _ for doing-” Peter didn’t even realize he was crying until halfway through when his voice cut out completely and a hand clapped over his mouth as his shoulders shook so hard he felt like he might topple over.

 

The door suddenly jingled open, a guy walked in with a girl on his arm and immediately Wade pulled a gun in their direction, “Get the fuck out.” The guy stepped in front of the girl and slowly backed out the way he came, glancing over at Peter’s tearful form, mouthing something before they both ran. 

 

Wade sighed something old and tired as he walked over and looped one of Peter’s arms over his broad shoulders. He silently lead them to the counter where lifted and set the injured man on, taking out a small, pink packet of Kleenex and pulling a couple out tissues out. They smelled like strawberries. Softly drying Peter’s cheeks and dripping nose while rubbing his back comfortingly. “Petey.... sweetheart. Fuck, I didn’t mean to-... mean to make you  _ cry  _ I just thought,” Wade blew a short breath. “I don’t know what I thought. I got angry and let it control my actions. While that might work for my job, that should stay outside of my personal life. Away from  _ you  _ especially. I’m sorry.”

 

“No,” Peter sniffled and rubbed his clammy hands on his skinny jeans. “No, I get it. Honestly, I think I’m angry at myself more than I care to admit. And that gets me hurt a lot more often than I should let happen. I’m aware of what I’m doing and that it’s stupid but for some reason, there’s that part of me that thinks that I deserve it.”

 

“Why do you think that, honey?”

 

Peter feels his bitterness take form as a laugh, “There’s a million and one reasons why I think that, Wade. But I think you’d just get tired of hearing them all.”

 

Wade reaches out a grasps one of Peter’s hands supportively, “I don’t sleep.”

 

\---

 

So he told him everything. How his dumb decision to win a wrestling tournament despite his Uncle’s clear disapproval got him killed. How his best friend killed himself because of him. How his girlfriend died because he wasn’t fast or smart enough. How his aunt was the only living family he had and how he’d broken her heart too many times. 

 

All through it, Wade stood and patiently listened, squeezing Peter’s hand when the latter became too choked up to talk. Peter didn’t even think he had this much weighing down on his chest and just talking about it made him feel like he was  _ this  _ much closer to reaching haven. And when he was burnt out and done with his story, Wade told  _ him  _ his story. 

 

His dad, his mom, Vanessa, the cancer, the torture, the scars, everything. Between the two of them, even though they both lived very different lives, it seemed like there was at least one thing they had in common.

 

“Life fucking sucks,” Wade said absolutely. “It’s gonna suck, and it’s gonna keep on sucking. Not the way, I imagine you doing from time-to-time… where was I?”

 

“Life sucks but not in the fun way,” Peter informed helpfully.

 

“Exactly. It’ll suck you until you yell, “Life! Stop it! I have no more life juices for you to suck from me!””

 

Peter wrinkled his nose, “Gross.”

 

“Isn’t it? And just when you’ve told them you’ve had enough, something happens and you suddenly have more life juice to give. You following me?”

 

“Not really but I get the message.”

 

“Excellent. You’re such a good student, Petey, you must have been one of those nerds with the thick-framed glasses and suspenders.”

 

“I didn’t actually have suspenders but I did wear the glasses.”

 

Deadpool did a double take, “D-Do you still have them?”

 

“Somewhere? Wade, why is this important? Get back to talking about life juices with me.”

 

“Right, we’ll save the make-up sex for later. But as I was saying… Even after life sucks you close to empty, even when they want you to blow your life load all over their face when you’ve got no more left, you always find something that fills you right back up. And that right there is my philosophical definition of an orgy.”

 

“Wade! Come on!”

 

“Exactly, angel! Cum on!”

 

Peter couldn’t stop the full-bodied laughter that took control of his body and was quickly followed along by Wade’s own deep guffaws. “Who knew you were such a philosopher, Wilson.”

 

“I am a man of many talents,” He shrugs and swipes a finger under Peter’s eye. Distantly he hopes he’s not as flushed as he feels.

 

“Hey, Wade?”

 

“Yes, baby boy?”

 

“Can you… I want… Well, for starters um- President Franklin Delano Roosevelt once said-”

 

“Now it’s  _ my  _ turn to stop you before things get too good. What is it, Petey?”

 

Peter twiddled his thumbs together, “Can I see you? Your face I mean. You don’t have to say yes, of course, I’ll just have a harder time kissing you through your mask.”

 

Wade looked at a loss for words, a phenomenon that seemed to occur quite frequently around Peter, and took a step back, “You don’t know what you’re asking, love bug.”

 

Looking straight into his eyes, he said, “For once in my life, I do.”

 

He can see Wade’s chest visibly rise and fall with each heavy breath. For a moment, nothing happens. The next moment, something does. Wade begins to roll up his mask more slowly than Peter would have liked, as if giving the man enough time to back away. When it’s completely off, Peter is in awe.

 

“Look at you,” He breathes, lightly dropping from the desk to limp over to the man before him. There are scars literally everywhere. They cover his lips, his ears, his eyelids. Some are open and painful looking, and it breaks Peter’s heart knowing that Wade’s had to deal with that by himself all this time. “ _ Look at you.” _

 

“It’s a lot and all over,” Wade begins and Peter shakes his head before he can begin his speech of self-deprecation.

 

“Wonderful,” Peter mutters, eyes darkening as his pupils dilate. “So perfect, Wade.”

 

He’s not sure who moves first, all he knows is that Wade’s lips are the perfect combination of rough, soft, and  _ warm.  _ Everything about him radiates heat, now that Peter is pressed fully against him. He wraps his arms around Wade’s neck and is instantly lifted and supported by two solid hands on his back and his ass. This sparks Peter to moan into Wade’s mouth, who takes this as an invitation to add in some tongue. Okay, a lot of tongue. 

 

Enough to leave him, red and gasping for air but not willing to breathe for the sake of  _ getting Wade’s mouth back on his this instant. _

 

“Ngh, home, Wade. G-Gotta get me in bed,” Peter stutters as the merc mouths at his neck, leaving bright red marks in his wake.

 

The look Wade gives him is nothing short of feral, “Oh, baby boy you don’t know how long I’ve-”

 

Peter’s head snaps to the right and he hears police sirens.  _ ‘What’re they after…’  _ He thinks back to the couple that was threatened by Wade, and vaguely recalls what the guy mouths to him.

 

“I’ll call for help, hang tight.”

 

He looks at Wade who’s staring at him in worry and he knows that if the man had hair he’d probably look like a disheveled puppy.  This makes him laugh before he gives him one last kiss and tells him that they need to go.

 

\---

 

Peter grunts as his back is slammed into his apartment door but pays no mind to the dull ache at the back of his head in favor of rutting with Wade like a wild animal. “Wade, Wade, wait I-I need to get my keys- o-oh you feel so good… Wade! Come on, baby, the keys.”

 

Wade simply spins Peter around so that he’s facing the door and grinds against his ass as he nips at his ear, “You got it?”

 

He fumbles with them as he gets them out of his pocket because at the moment all he can register is Wade’s fingers dipping beneath the waistline of his jeans and kneading the plump flesh of Peter’s ass. After some trouble, he finally gets the door unlocked and yelps as the two of them nearly topple over when the door flies open. Luckily, Peter is a lot stronger than he looks (even with his ankle) and is able to hold the both of them up as they make their way inside.

 

Wade kicks the door shut, behind him and goes back to gathering Peter in his arms and turning him into a puddle of needy whines and moaning. “G-god you’re- Ah! S-so amazing. ‘M so in love with you it’s crazy.”

 

The kisses stop and Peter’s head is forced up so that he’s looking at Wade with half-lidded eyes, “You love me?”

 

“Yes, you doofus! ‘Ve been in love with you this whole time,” Peter huffs like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

 

“ _ Fuck, _ ” Wade groans and their kissing again, hard enough to make Peter feel his lips bruise but he can’t bring himself to care because between each breath he says, “Love you too, baby boy. Always, since the first moment I saw you. With you’re perfect hair and perfect smile, how could I _ not _ ?”

 

They move to Peter’s bedroom and the first thing Wade notices instead of the Spider-Man suit draped absentmindedly over his desk chair, thank god, is the Hello Kitty eye-patch Peter had placed over his one-eyed teddy bear he’s had since he was born.

 

“Is that the pirate patch?” Wade interrupts himself making out with Peter’s neck as soon as he spots it.

 

“Eye-patch, and yeah, Mrs. Brownie needed it more than I did,” Peter explains shyly and nearly shrieks when Wade pushes him onto the bed and pulls his shirt off.

 

“I love it. I love that you kept it, fuck. Love it when you listen to me too, even when I have nothing important to say,” Wade gasps against Peter’s bare chest and mouths at a pink nipple.

 

“Everything you sa-AY! Is important, Wade!” He nearly chokes on his tongue when the merc begins nibbling on the pert nub.

 

“Fuck- need to have you. Need you right now, honey.”

 

“All yours,” Peter gasps as his jeans are very nearly ripped off. “Always yours. What about you? You’re mine, too? Come on, take your suit off, wanna see all of you.”

 

“I was yours the minute you batted your pretty brown eyes at me, baby. And hell yeah give me one second,” Wade says and jumps up, taking out all of his weapons as quickly as possible before peeling himself out of his suit. If Wade looked solid in the suit, he looked  _ pristine  _ outside of it. All hard, corded muscle built in from years of training. And  _ scarred  _ to all hell. Wade wasn’t kidding when he said it was all over. 

 

“Will it hurt when I touch you,” Peter asks, chewing on his lower lip.

 

Wade lowers his head and presses his lips to soft, wild hair, “You could never hurt me.”

 

Nodding slightly, he looked further down and chuckled.

 

Wade, self-conscious as always, covered his dick, “What’re you laughing at?”

 

“Nothing, just a thought from before. About magnum condoms and such,” Peter smiled leaned back over the side the bed so that he could take out the shoebox and nearly jumps when Wade’s hands caressed his thighs and abs. 

 

“How are you so beautiful,” Wade says and begins to kiss everywhere he can reach, “I don’t understand how someone can live  _ here  _ and be as pretty as you.”

 

“S-Same goes for you,” Peter grits his teeth when he feels the hot mouth get closer to his groin. He summons enough willpower to pop open the lid of the box and pick up the lube, he feels Wade freeze in place. Looking down, he can see the man’s eyes morphing into a hungrier shade of blue. “Wh-What’s wrong?” Peter tries but he’s not dumb. He knows what’s up, he just wants to hear Wade say it.

 

“Are those…?”

 

“Mhmm,” Peter hums, innocently plucking ‘Wade Jr’ from the collection. “What? Cat got your tongue?” Peter licks his lips and lets it flick against the tasteless silicone surface. He feels need roll of Wade in waves but decides to tease him for a moment, making a show of trailing his tongue around the head of the fake cock and slowly taking it all in his mouth. He gags just the slightest because he thinks that’s something Wade would like and slowly pulls back off. Peter loses his grip on the toy when he’s tackled to the bed once again and held down by Wade.

 

“You little minx,” He whispers darkly into Peter’s here, causing him to shudder. “How long have you been practicing that? Hm? Weeks? Months?  _ Years?” _

 

“Since I was 16,” Peter gasps out when he feels Wade’s hand wrap around his dick. It’s so big and warm and  _ perfect _ . Peter feels like he’ll be seeing stars in no time. “Discovered I-oh yes- liked guys and g-girls, I’m not too p-picky gender-wise actually, b-but decided I wanted to learn how to suck dick by the time- slow down, sweetheart- I was out of high school.”

 

“Why not during?”

 

“Ew, who wants gross, teenaged penis in their mouth. Bleh,” Peter sticks out his tongue in disgust and can feel Wade’s laughed seeping into him.

 

“Fair point. Care to share the experience?” Wade didn’t even have to ask. Peter went down on him with no intentions of making the older cum. He teased and teased and teased and just when Wade couldn’t take it anymore, he backed off completely.

 

Wade was visibly out of breath, “Your turn.” And before Peter could say anything the man’s mouth was around him. He felt the tongue apply pressure to all the right places and nearly came when Wade sucked  _ hard. _ “Gotta keep you on your toes, too, baby boy,” He said smugly before ducking down again.

 

“Wade, wade, ye-yes,” Peter chanted and groaned in annoyance when the mouth pulled off once more. “I’m beginning to regret being so- OH SWEET JESUS.” His hand reached up and fisted his sheets when he felt Wade tongue at his rim. It circled around for a moment before laying thick and flat and looking over him in such a way that Peter began to babble mindlessly. Soon enough, Wade’s tongue dipped inside, and all bets were off. Peter cried out Wade’s name as he came onto his stomach. His abs twitching when Wade pulled off and for a second he was disappointed to think that they were done. 

 

Once again, he was as wrong as Wade was unpredictable. His partner popped open the lube and poured it onto his hands, glancing at Peter for permission, “Can I?” Peter spread his legs as an answer, receiving a wet kiss on his inner thigh. Wade takes a second to warm the liquid before pressing and entering a finger. “Oh, lady death, you’re so tight.”

 

“Why don’t you change that?”

 

“Your wish is my command,” Wade muttered, curling his finger inward in such a way that made Peter clamp up. “There you are, sir prostate. My name’s Wade. We’re going to be  _ really good friends _ ,” He punctuated by shoving his finger in hard three times.  

 

“Fuuucck- Stop talking to my prostate, you weirdo!”

 

“It’s working for you though. I can see you getting hard again,” He teased, moving up to press a kiss playfully to Peter’s cock. This distracted the brunet for a bit as Wade eased in another finger. They felt so thick inside him but it just wasn’t enough.

 

“Wade, Wade, please. Need you in me. Please, please, please I need your cock,” Peter gasped out, curling his toes as his prostate was massaged. He tried moving his hips back on Wade’s fingers but the man just held them down.

 

“Patience, baby boy. I need to open you up nice and slow so you don’t get hurt.”

 

“No, no, ‘nother time, please. Need it now. Come on, Wade, please?” Peter was staring up at him with such big, watery brown eyes and flushed cheeks that when Wade gazed at him, absolutely besotted he knew he’d won.

 

Wade let out a shuddering breath, “Oh ho ho you asked for it, Peter.” With that, he lubed himself up and pressed gently inside, “Oooooooh hell on fire.”

 

He couldn’t hear anything, and with his eyes closed so tightly he couldn’t see either. All he could do was concentrate on Wade’s thick cock fitting inside him too much like a missing puzzle piece. Every sense going haywire so he placed a hand on Wade’s chest to stop and catch his breath. Peter felt soft kisses brush around his temple, over his eyelids, cheeks, and nose. 

 

“You feel so amazing, baby boy. Feels like home,” Wade mumbles against his skin, continuing to praise him quietly until Peter opens his eyes. “So perfect. Why would anyone want to hurt you?” For some reason, this made Peter clench around his dick enough to make Wade moan, guttural and unabashed, “You ready, sweetheart? Can I move?”

 

Peter pulls him into a kiss and before he knows it, feels Wade begin to move and his nerves are buzzing pleasantly again. Hands grip at his thighs harshly as Wade tried determinedly to remain in control of himself. “Fuck, always want to be inside you. Can I do that, precious?”

 

“Want that too. Want that so bad,” Peter practically begs, hooking one leg over Wade’s hip to draw him closer while placing the other on his shoulder. The pace quickens almost immediately until Wade is slamming into him with such force it pulls a litany staccato “Ah’s” from Peter’s throat. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

 

“Good boy, Peter. That’s exactly what we’re doing,” Wade cooes and moves a hand to Peter’s pretty pink dick, laying heavy between two protruding hip bones. “God, so pretty. Wish you could see where I’m sitting. Such a sweet baby boy.”

 

Peter feels his balls drawing up tight at Wade’s words and frantically grabs at his face to pull him down for a desperate kiss. The knee from the leg still hitched up Wade’s shoulder pressing against his right pec, “You too. You’re pretty too. So good-looking hurt to looks at you before. Never thought you’d be mine.”

 

The hand around his dick speeds up, as Wade’s thrusts become more erratic, “I’m not gonna last, Petey. Where do you want me to come?”

 

“F-Fu-Ah In-Inside- Oh oh my god I’m gonna-” Peter sobs out, feeling tears spill down his cheeks as time slows down and it feels like he’s a dying star. He opens his mouth in a silent scream, eyes fluttering open and shut when he feels Wade thrust a few more times before spilling inside him. When he finally comes to, he whines from overstimulation as he feels something soft and wet wipe at his stomach. Wade litters his face with kisses, whispering sweet nothings to him before lying down beside him.

 

Peter scoots closer so they’re holding each other, face to face and just… admires him. Loving the way Wade’s eyes are so clear with genuine emotion and directed at  _ him.  _ Peter cups Wade’s cheek and lightly places kisses strategically all around his face as well, not stopping until Wade can feel how much Peter adores him. “I love you,” he says so softly, meaning every bit of it.

 

“I love you more than I love the color pink,” Wade retorts.

 

“Oh, really? I love you more than two neodymium magnets placed together.”

 

“Bringing science into this, are you? I knew you were a nerd.”

 

“I did graduate Summa Cum Laude from my university.”

 

“I bet you did,” Wade pinches Peter’s cheek with a wry smile.

 

“You’re incorrigible,” Peter tried to sound annoyed but can’t with the smile that’s on his face.

 

“Oh, yeah, baby keep talking dirty to me,” Wade moans, earning more laughs from his lover.

 

That’s when he feels something hard on his thigh and peeks down, mouth open in shock, “Wait, really?! You just came!”

 

Wade begins to grind against him, “Can’t help it, Petey. You’ve made a slave out of me. Tell me no and I’ll stop.” He cups Peter’s ass, thumb drifting toward the cleft.

 

“Well… I- I guess one more time, won’t hurt,” The brunet pants, quickly separating from Wade to rummage through his closet.

 

“Petey, come back!” Wade demands childishly, making grabby hands his way. Those fall limp when Peter turns around with his black, thick-rimmed glasses from high school. “Oh, Peter Parker, be ready to not walk tomorrow.” 

 

“It’s Peter Benjamin Parker,” The bespectacled man informs coldly, sauntering over like it was in his blood. “And by my calculations, you’ve been a very bad boy.”

 

“ _ Oh, hell yes.” _

\---

 

They ended up doing it 5 more times that night until Peter passed out. In the morning, he woke up not as sore as he thought he’d be (definitely one of the perks to being Spider-Man) to fingers gently carding their way through his hair. He sniffed once, stretching his arms out and arching his back before opening his eyes and peering at his new boyfriend. “Good morning, Mr. Wade “Ass Master” Wilson. Did you sleep well?”

 

“Not as well as you did, Mr. Peter “Wade’s My Bitch” Parker,” Wade replied, voice rough and sleep heavy. 

 

“What, did you just stay up and watch me sleep like Edward Cullen? Oh, god I think the real question here is: Am I Bella?” 

 

“Ew, honey you’re definitely a lot better than that character equivalent to the first slice of white bread. And I’m at least a Jacob, okay? Come on Pete get with the series,” Wade scoffed and turned his head away.

 

Peter giggled and tried to get him to turn back his way, “Waaaade come back! I’m sorry! I’m not as well versed in the Twilight universe as one might think I don’t even know who Jacob is.”

 

“Don’t know who Jacob is- Peter, clear your schedule for today, we’re gonna marathon the movies starting right after I bring us some breakfast in bed. World famous Winston Waffles. You’re gonna love them. Be back in a few.” With that Wade bounced out of bed and rushed out of Peter’s room.

 

Running a hand through his hair, he sat up, despite his aching lower back and looked at his reflection in the mirror across the bed. His hair… hopefully would be fine after a shower… or three… and his body was covered in love bites. Some were already fading but he still snorted at the hickey heart around his right nipple, shaking his head. “Absolute madman. I love him.”

 

He felt like he forgot something though. Something very important to his everyday life. His eyes flickered to the Spidey suit, which had dropped from the chair to the floor. Peter remembered throwing everything off as Wade sat down on it, allowing Peter to ride him to completion. He went to hide it and stopped, looking at the direction of the kitchen and felt his heart tighten. 

 

It was time Wade knew. 

 

Peter carefully undressed and shimmied into the skin-tight spandex. Running to the bathroom and taking time to style his rat nest of hair using some water and a comb. He tried parting 3 different ways, seriously contemplating on splitting it down the middle before ultimately mussing it up and ending back at square one.

 

“Petey?” Wade called through the door, causing Peter’s hip to slam into the edge of the counter. He scrunched his face up and hissed, cursing whatever ethereal being was out there that brought him this pain.

 

“Yeah?!” He squeaked, then cleared his throat. “Yeah, babe?”

 

“Do you want orange juice or almond milk?” 

 

“Orange is fine!” He replied, and rubbed at his injured hip.

 

“Cool, breakfast is almost done so… finish up whatever you’re doing in there,” Wade snickered, and Peter let out a long breath when he heard him leave.

 

Like the expert of sneaking he was, Peter opened the door and stuck his head out, making sure Wade was really gone before reentering the bedroom. He looked in the mirror and closed his eyes, trying to build up enough confidence for what was about to occur.

 

“Nope. Can’t do it. Sorry, Universe. Not gonna happen,” Peter muttered to himself as he struggled to get out of his suit when he heard something crash and looked toward the doorway.

 

There he saw Wade standing in a puddle of what was supposed to be their breakfast, pure shock overtaking his expression.

 

“Wade I can expla-” 

 

“What the FU-”

 

THE END 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Okie dokie! Thanks for reading! Please please please comment what you think! If you liked it, if you didn't, any input is welcome. This was my second time writing smut so I hope that turned out okay lol.
> 
> Fun Fact: The porn Peter watches is an actual thing. I've never watched it, don't ever plan on watching, but I loved the idea of him jerking off to cheesy porn so much that I had to use it.


End file.
